


It's All About Your Perceptions

by AetherSprite (AranthianPrincess)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Everyone Encourages TV Watching, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, I'm not kidding, Kidnapping, M/M, Steve is Very Confused, Steve is a sneaky devil when he wants to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AranthianPrincess/pseuds/AetherSprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is arrested for a crime he couldn't possibly commit. Tony takes matters into his own hands to prove it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All About Your Perceptions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MusicalLuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/gifts).



> Dear MusicalLuna, I tried to hit as many of your requests as I could, but I'm afraid it didn't get super angsty like I had originally intended. Steve is mostly just wandering around in a haze of confusion. I was inspired by the fake marriage and kidnapping prompts and kind of ran with those. It's not quite marriage, but I did what I could. There's a little bit of humor in there too. And I somehow got “plot” and “porn” mixed up, so you got a very vague plot with no porn, but I sense a PWP fic for this sometime in the future. And, of course, there is a happy ending. Always a happy ending. I hope you enjoy it!

When the door opened again the last person Steve expected to see stood silhouetted there. He squinted against the bright hallway lights, eyes stinging from the sudden absence of the, by now normal, dimness. This place definitely lacked a warm and inviting feel. Admittedly, a jail cell wasn't meant to be the most welcoming of places. He wouldn't expect it to be. Then again, Steve had never expected to find himself arrested.

That was what he blamed for the sudden rush of relief he felt when Steve finally recognized his visitor despite the disadvantageous lighting. It was Tony Stark.

“St–” Steve started, shock written plainly across his face, but he was interrupted when the genius took two long strides and wrapped his arms around Steve.

“Just follow my lead,” Stark said, mouth so close Steve could feel the tingle of warm breath along the shell of his ear. “I'll explain later. And call me Tony or this whole endeavor's gonna fall apart fast.”

He pulled away before Steve could get a word in edgewise and turned to face the officers who had escorted him, arm draped possessively across Steve's shoulders.

“S-Tony, what are you doing here?” He asked, remembering at the last second that Stark had said to use his first name.

It proved to be the right decision. Steve noticed one of the officers lost the pinched look of suspicion right away and the other two seemed slightly less tense. He didn't know what Stark had told them, but Steve resolved to remember to use 'Tony,' at least until they were back in private and he could demand more detailed answers.

Stark glanced down at him, a small grin quirking at the corner of his mouth for an instant only to be replaced with a serious expression Steve couldn't ever recall seeing before.

“I came to spring you out of jail,” he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he looked pointedly around the small cell. “You didn't really think I'd leave you here, did you, sweetheart?”

Steve felt his brow wanting to furrow in confusion, but he refused to let it. Something told him that reaction wouldn't fit into whatever story Stark had spun. Instead, Steve shook his head and forced a small smile he hoped didn't look too much like a grimace. It sure felt like one.

“No, I suppose you wouldn't, Tony.”

“Damn right I wouldn't leave you to rot here,” Stark said, tugging at Steve's arm. “Now come on. Let's get out of here.” Stark turned his million-watt smile on the officers now. “We are free to go, right?”

“All the paperwork is in order, Mr. Stark,” the lead officer spoke up, gesturing to the other two to step back out of their way. “Mr. Rogers is officially released into Avengers custody and is restricted from traveling outside the city until his hearing.”

“Of course, of course. Let's go, darling,” Stark said. Tugging Steve to his feet and practically dragging him out of the police station to a waiting car, Happy at the wheel. “Back to the Tower, Happy. And step on it.”

“Yes, sir.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Stark didn’t talk the entire drive back to his Tower. In fact, he did his very best to avoid talking to Steve at all. One of those little, flimsy rectangles people called phones in his hands the whole time. Steve didn’t know what he was doing on it, but he kept tapping it with his thumbs. He assumed Stark was talking to somebody without actually talking out loud. Steve found the idea at once amazing and a little disconcerting. To think they managed to shrink a typewriter down to that small a size and also make it send those messages through the air!

His fascination didn’t last long, quickly burned away by the anger at being so thoroughly ignored. Steve tapped his fingers against his leg, but that didn’t make enough noise and he could feel his jaw clenching with the tension. Probably not good for his teeth so he switched to tapping on the little ledge sticking out from the car door. That noise felt more satisfying, though not nearly a decent enough substitute for actual answers. Nevertheless, the muscles in his jaw relaxed enough that Steve thought his teeth were no longer in mortal danger. Plus, Stark looked a little more on edge at the noise, which could only be an added benefit.

Finally, the driver, Happy, pulled into what Steve assumed to be the Tower’s underground garage. Stark flung the door open and jumped out almost before the car had come to a complete stop. Steve waited a moment longer, sliding out of the car and standing to look over the top of it at a fidgeting genius.

“Alright, good, we’re here and the reporters aren’t… yet,” Stark said, taking off toward a set of elevator doors at the opposite end of the huge garage like he’d been struck by lightning. “Better get you settled before they get wind of your sudden arrival.”

“Why would reporters care where I am?” Steve asked a little more calmly than he had intended. The garage was full of dozens of cars, all sleek, shiny, and attention-grabbing. He wondered if this had been Stark’s plan to get him to avoid asking questions. It almost worked too.

“Oh, no reason in particular. I’ll tell you later. Or J will,” Stark brushed him off, hand waving dismissively in the air as he stepped onto the elevator. Steve didn’t see any buttons and wondered how he had summoned the car. “I’m sure someone will fill you in. Meanwhile, I’ll show you your floor and everyone else’s.”

“Floor?” Steve asked. “Not just a room?”

Stark gave him an indignant look. “Of course you get a whole floor! Everyone else has one. Mine’s at the very top. Typical, I know, but all my stuff was already up there.”

Steve didn’t say anything to that, not seeing anything wrong with Stark taking the top floor. It was his tower after all. No, what threw Steve for a loop was the fact he got an entire floor to himself. He had expected his own room, maybe even a small apartment-like suite, but not a floor. And he wasn’t the only one. Stark had apparently outfitted multiple people similarly. Steve assumed the entirety of the Avengers and any number of other people considering the sheer size of the Tower. As Stark rattled on about the communal floors, including kitchen, media room, and Avengers-only gyms, Steve stared wide-eyed at him.

“What? What is it? Is there something on my face?” Stark demanded, holding his phone up like a mirror to see what Steve was staring at.

“You gave me an entire floor?” Steve repeated, still a little gobsmacked.

“I think I said that already,” Stark pointed out, brow furrowed as he watched Steve. “Are you feeling alright? You’re not usually this slow on the draw. At least, that’s the rumor.”

“Why?”

“Well, rumors usually start one of two ways,” Stark started. Steve made an annoyed sound that shut him right up.

“I meant, ‘Why did you give me a whole floor when everyone thinks I'm a criminal?’”

“SHIELD got you transferred into our custody, but they didn’t dictate how we’re to treat you,” Stark explained. “So, our temporarily out of commission team leader it is. As far as the team’s concerned, you’re still one of us. Also, completely innocent, but that’s an entirely different story for another time. Now, if I could direct your attention to the doors, you’ll get your first glimpse of your new home.”

Steve stared a second longer, amazed at Stark’s casual generosity, before doing as suggested and looking out the open elevator doors. What he saw had him frozen in astonishment yet again. The sitting room, complete with one of those giant, flat rectangles he learned were the descendants of the first televisions, was completely furnished in a familiar style.

“Most of it is actually closer to the Fifties than the Forties or Thirties, but I figured it was close enough. Thought you might find the more modern furniture a little too jarring,” Stark was saying. Steve only listened with half an ear. “Of course, you have the most modern technology money can buy, which is mine actually, not that that’s surprising. There’s the TV and there’s a computer around here somewhere too. Actually, you have a full entertainment system and I think there’s a radio in your room. You listened to radios, right?”

Steve managed a quiet “yeah” and wandered into the room, brushing chairs, tables, and anything else he could reach gently with his fingers. The whole place was like stepping back in time, only a little brighter thanks to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that replaced actual walls on the exterior edges of the room. Even the modern technology was integrated well into the old-time atmosphere. Steve could stand just so with the antique furniture and the giant modern television in his line of sight and not feel like he was looking at two completely separate eras.

“I better get going,” Stark said. He hadn’t even left the elevator Steve saw when he looked back. “If you need anything, mine’s the floor right above this one. I’m not there much, though. You’d have better luck looking for me in my lab. Or, if you want, you can look up one of the others. I think everyone but Thor is here by now. JARVIS can direct you to them if you need him to.”

With that the elevator doors closed and Stark was gone, leaving behind a very confused, but rather pleased, Steve.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The days passed in a fog of normality. Or what Steve assumed was normality for the Tower.

The morning after he arrived, Steve decided to wander down to the communal floors. This proved to be a slightly frustrating exercise as there were no stairs he could find and there was no call button for the elevator. Steve was pretty sure he nearly suffered a heart attack when a disembodied voice called him by name and offered its assistance after he’d spent nearly an hour looking for an exit.

“Can I be of assistance, Captain Rogers?” A very proper British voice asked from nowhere and everywhere.

“Hello?” Steve said tentatively. “Is anyone there?”

“My apologies, Captain,” the voice replied. “I had forgotten Mr. Stark did not see fit to explain my presence to you. My name is JARVIS and I am Sir’s artificial intelligence. I run the Tower and am available to assist you should you require it.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Steve said politely, resolving to ask someone what exactly an artificial intelligence was the first chance he got. “Um, could you tell me how to get down to the communal areas?”

“Of course, Captain. Please step into the elevator. All the floors are connected by the Tower’s private elevator. Only Avengers and their support staff have access to them, though you’ll find only Avengers have free rein of all the areas. Personal floors and the private labs are restricted to team members only.”

Steve was about to open his mouth and explain to the helpful disembodied voice that the elevator doors were firmly shut and he couldn’t find the button to call the car anyway, when he happened to catch sight of them standing open. He wasted no time and stepped into the waiting car, turning just in time to watch the doors close behind him. The car began its smooth descent almost immediately, the familiar lurch of sudden motion conspicuously absent. Steve only knew the elevator was moving because he could feel the slight weightlessness that generally accompanied descending in elevators.

Much sooner than he expected, the doors opened onto an unfamiliar hallway. Steve stepped out and looked around curiously. He didn’t even jump this time when JARVIS’ voice came from out of nowhere.

“You’ll find the kitchen and dining area ahead and to your right.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, heading that way.

“You are quite welcome, Captain. Please, do not hesitate to call on me should you require further assistance.”

Steve nearly thanked JARVIS again, but he got distracted by the kitchen. Or rather, the person he found in the kitchen. Natasha sat there looking right at him as if she had been waiting. Steve half suspected she had.

“Hi,” Steve tried.

“Good morning,” she replied. “I figured you would be an early riser.”

“Yeah, the Army'll do that to you. The drill sergeants weren't really big on waiting for the sun to rise before we did.”

Natasha merely raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment further. They stayed there in silence for a few more minutes. Steve felt awkward, but Natasha seemed just as comfortable as before. Finally, Steve broke the silence just so he could carry on with his day.

“So, Stark didn't really explain how I ended up here. Do you have any ideas?”

“As far as I know, as soon as they heard you were arrested for murder Stark and Fury worked together to come up with a way to get New York's finest to turn you over to us,” Natasha shrugged. “My guess is Fury needed some place to keep you that would be away from the media. Stark Tower has the tightest security in the world and Stark Industries did have a vested interest in your health at one time.”

“Stark was involved? Why?” Steve demanded. This was news to him, although it would explain why Stark had shown up to bring him here.

Natasha gave him a pointed look, like he should already know the answer. “That's Tony's decision if he wants to tell you or not,” she said, standing and making her way out the door. “Maybe you should watch a little TV, Cap. Get reacquainted with the world.”

Steve stared at the empty space where Natasha disappeared around the corner. It seemed odd advice, especially from her. He shook his head, pushing his confusion to the back of his mind and resolving not to think about it for a while. Right now his stomach demanded attention and then maybe he'd explore the Tower some more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He ended up in what JARVIS told him was the Avengers' private gym later that day. Somewhat coincidentally, he wasn't alone this time either. Steve could hear the steady thwack of arrows hitting something solid. Sure enough, when he stepped further into the gym Steve saw what appeared to be a half-wall maze complete with moving targets and ledges and nooks protruding randomly from walls and ceiling. No sooner had Steve taken all this in than Barton came rolling out from behind a wall.

He released an arrow, hitting the target in the bull's eye as it swung out from behind another wall before his momentum carried him back behind cover. Steve applauded, feeling impressed by Barton's skill even if, as far as he could tell, the maze wasn't shooting back. It never hurt to be prepared to avoid enemy attacks even if you had to dream them up in training.

The applause only seemed to spur Barton on. As Steve watched, the archer sprang from one hiding spot to another, shooting down any target that dared show itself. There was one point where Barton refused to even touch the ground, leaping from one raised platform or cubbyhole to another and never once missed a target.

Finally, after several more minutes showing off the program ended. JARVIS' voice came from the ceiling, informing them that Steve had indeed been correct. Barton had hit every target, completely decimating his imaginary opponents.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Barton said, grabbing a towel and wiping his face with it. He still held his bow in the other hand. “Remind me to thank Stark for this next time he graces us with his exalted presence.”

“Duly noted, Mr. Barton,” JARVIS replied. The archer nodded and wandered over to Steve's side.

“What brings you down here, Cap?” He asked casually. “Looking for a workout?”

“Just exploring,” Steve said, taking the opportunity to look around at the countless other bits of equipment and training materials stuffed into the room. “Did Stark really design that maze you were using?”

“Yeah. Had it ready for us when we moved in too. I think he planned it.”

“Planned what?”

“Having all the Avengers gather together under one roof. It's odd, though. I haven't seen him since I got here,” Barton mused.

“I haven't either, but I've only been here a day. That's probably not unusual.”

Barton frowned. “No, I don't think it is. From what JARVIS has said, I get the impression Stark practically lives in his lab. Guy's a a genius, but completely crazy. I don't see how he stands to be cooped up in a confined space for so long.”

“Says the guy who likes high places,” Steve said wryly, giving Barton a pointed look. They weren't well-acquainted by any means, but Steve remembered Barton jumping off the top of a skyscraper like he did it everyday.

“Those high places are in the open air, I'll have you know,” Barton retorted. “I can get anywhere I want from my quirky hangout spots.”

“I'm sure Stark has his ways. I wouldn't put it past him to have secret passages stashed all throughout this place.”

“Sir has no secret passages in the Tower, Captain,” JARVIS chimed in. “But I am certain he would be amused by the suggestion.”

Steve could feel his face heat at the mention of JARVIS possibly telling Stark what he'd said, but he stubbornly ignored it. “Speaking of Stark and secret passages, do you have any idea how he managed to get me here?”

Barton gave him a look. “I would assume he drove you here in a car, Cap. Why? Weren't you awake for the trip?”

“That's not what I meant. How did he get me transferred into Avengers' custody?” Steve clarified, choosing to ignore the slightly teasing tone in Barton's voice that said he knew exactly what Steve meant.

“I'm pretty sure that was SHIELD, Cap,” Barton smirked at him. Two could play at that game.

“That's not what Natasha said.”

“Nat told you?! She wasn't supposed to. Man! I was just getting used to this nice, cushy place and now Stark's gonna kick us out when he hears about this.”

“Sorry. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to say anything,” Steve said, plastering on his most apologetic expression.

“Yeah, well, there's no point hiding it now if she's told you Stark went down to Fury's office in person to demand your release,” Barton said, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Stark was the one demanding my release? I thought it was Fury's idea,” Steve said. Barton's head shot up and he glared accusingly at Steve.

“You lied to me!” He declared, pointing a finger at him dramatically. “Captain America lied to me! I didn't think that was possible. Isn't there some kind of law of the universe or something that says Captain America can't lie? I'm pretty sure there is.”

“Sorry, not that I'm aware of,” Steve said.

“Are you sure?” Barton tossed over his shoulder, turning his back on Steve and walking out the door. “Oh, well. Maybe you should catch up on a little TV, Cap. You know, since you're all curious and everything.”

And then Barton was gone. Steve was starting to wonder if there was something in the air. What was so special about the TV anyway?

~*~*~*~*~*~

For a place that supposedly housed several individuals, the Tower was almost depressingly empty. Steve hadn't seen anyone since Barton and Natasha his first full day there just over a week ago. Odd that the first people he ran across were the two trained not to be seen unless they wanted to be. Steve wondered if that meant anything, but Barton had seemed surprised enough to run into him that it could have been just a coincidence. Then again, Natasha looked as if she had been lying in wait for him. Steve didn't know what to think about those two.

Steve decided not to dwell on it. He was on his way to one of the common rooms. It was his favorite. Large windows allowed light to stream in and made for a great place for him to draw. Even better, the windows looked out over the main city. At the right time of day, the sun struck the steel and glass of the city's skyscrapers and exploded in a riot of color. Steve wished absently that he had some colored pencils or something to properly capture the daily sight, but he only had the regular pencils he found in his own room after some digging.

So caught up in his thought, Steve didn't notice the smaller man entering the hall from another room. The other man didn't see him either and they almost collided if it hadn't been for Steve's reflexes. He managed to twist to the side just in time to avoid actually knocking into a very tired looking Bruce Banner holding a steaming mug.

“Sorry, Mr. Banner,” Steve apologized immediately, feeling just the slightest bit awkward.

“Don't worry about it, Steve. And call me Bruce,” Bruce said. He gave Steve a small, friendly smile.

“I haven't seen you around. How are you?”

Bruce's forehead wrinkled, like he was confused by Steve's concern but not quite put off by it. “I'm fine. Just busy. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing really,” Steve said. “I'm kind of stuck here. Can I ask you something?”

The scientist frowned, but nodded. “Sure.”

“Why would Stark go to the effort of barging into Fury's office to demand my release?”

He took several long moments to respond, but the response Bruce offered was not what Steve had been expecting.

“I don't think I would call what Tony did 'barging,'” he said carefully. “More like storming.”

Steve didn't understand the distinction but filed it away to consider later. More importantly, Bruce hadn't answered his question.

“Why?”

“ I can't tell you that. It's Tony's business if he wants to tel you or not.”

“That's what everyone else said,” Steve groaned. He could feel a headache building up behind his eyes. “And then they follow it up with a suggestion for me to watch TV.”

Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment and then looked up at Steve, his eyes bright with secrets and not a little bit of mischief.

“That sounds like a good idea. You should give it a try if you really want to know what the fuss is about.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

A week after his run-in with Bruce Steve finally got to see all his Tower mates gathered together in one place. Somehow, Stark had found out about Thor's arrival, which was news to Steve. He'd been a little distracted by his upcoming trial. From everything he had gathered, the United States justice system didn't usually work that fast, but Steve being Captain America had pushed them into speeding up the process quite dramatically. Even Thor seemed to understand this somehow. Steve suspected whatever magic, trans-dimensional communications device Stark used to learn about the demigod's arrival.

“Greetings, fellow warriors! I have returned to support our good captain during this trial,” Thor boomed upon landing on Stark's personal landing pad. Steve winced, both in concern for the landing pad's safety after such a hard landing and Thor's not-so-gentle reminder.

“Thanks, Thor, but you didn't have to,” Steve said.

“Honor demanded I do no less, Friend Steven,” Thor declared. Steve mused briefly that Thor would be an excellent deterrent for alcoholics. No one would want to be within a five mile radius of him the morning after a drinking binge. Steve could almost feel a throbbing migraine coming on at the mere thought.

“I appreciate it, Thor.”

Thor grinned broadly and gave him a friendly pound on the back that nevertheless threatened to send him through the floor before draping an arm across his shoulders and leading Steve away.

“Come! Regale me with a tour of this glass palace and I shall do my very best to bolster your spirits before your upcoming battle!”

Steve hesitated, but Thor was strong enough to drag him back into the hall and away from the others without seeming to notice Steve's reluctance. Shrugging, he decided to just go with it. Besides, Thor felt the closest alien and strange to this brave new world as Steve thought he himself was. Maybe his demigod teammate could shed some light on the rest's odd behavior.

“Um, Thor?” Steve started uncertainly.

“Yes, Friend Steven!”

Steve winced at that booming voice so close to his ear. “You wouldn't have any idea why Stark would stick his neck out for me, do you?”

Admittedly, it was an odd question to ask since Thor had spent even less time around Stark than Steve, but the demigod was literally the only person he had left to turn to and he seemed to be considering the question seriously.

“Anthony is a very caring person. I do not think it out of character for him to rush to the aid of a comrade if he thought he was needed,” Thor said finally. He must have noticed the skeptical look on Steve's face because he hurried to add: “Of course, he hides it very well. It is my belief that he is so crass with others because he does not want them to know he cares.”

“You think so?” Steve said absentmindedly. Thor nodded. “What about TV?”

“The wondrous frame that displays moving pictures? It is truly a novel invention!”

“Everyone here seems to think so,” Steve explained. “They keep telling me I should watch it. That it will help me get caught up on modern times.”

Thor frowned thoughtfully. “Our comrades-in-arms are trustworthy people. I would be truly honored to fight at their sides again. If they think you should try out TV, I suggest you take their advice.”

“Strangely, that helped. Thanks, Thor.”

“Anytime, my friend!” Thor boomed, slapping Steve on the back and turning their conversation back to the wonders of Stark's Tower.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Steve finally made it back to his room later that night, he wandered into his sitting room and took a seat on the couch instead of turning in for the evening as usual. He stared at the blank screen on the wall for several minutes, wondering if this really was a good idea or if his team was pulling his leg. Sighing, Steve decided no one had to know if they were pulling a prank on him and if they weren't he could discover some valuable information.

“JARVIS?” Steve called, glancing up at the ceiling out of pure habit. Where else should he look when talking to a disembodied voice?

“Yes, Captain? May I be of assistance?”

“Yeah... Could you recommend a program for me to watch on the TV? Everyone thinks I should give it a try, but I don't know much about it.”

There was a pause, longer than Steve would have thought necessary, before JARVIS responded. 

“Of course, Captain. I have found a program I think would be of great interest to you.”

If Steve didn't know better he would have thought JARVIS sounded just a little too sly for a computer program no matter how advanced. Before he could say anything, though, the screen winked on and Steve's attention was grabbed by what appeared to be a press conference. His brow furrowed in confusion before he recognized the lobby of Stark Tower partially obscured by a small stage and a podium. At that podium stood none other than the Tower's owner, Tony Stark.

Stark spoke with his hands, gesturing animatedly as he made an impassioned speech about something Steve hadn't quite figured out yet. He watched as Stark was forced to pause for questions only to rush into his answers before the reporter had finished speaking. The man was surprisingly awe-inspiring, capturing and holding the crowd in thrall as he turned them to his own particular viewpoint. Briefly, Steve thought Stark could convince anyone to do anything he wanted if he ever had the inclination to do so. He was glad Stark didn't seem to have that particular inclination and hoped he never discovered it and decided to go rogue. Steve would probably follow him if he did because those intense dark eyes wouldn't allow him to say no.

“JARVIS, turn it up,” Steve said, leaning closer with elbows resting on his knees. He barely noticed the AI silently carrying out the order.

_“Of course I'm sure he's innocent,” Tony was saying. “I wouldn't be up here if I didn't. Steve Rogers is a very dear family friend. I've known him all my life and I'm telling you, he's not a murderer.”_

_“Wasn't he a soldier?” A reporter interrupted. Tony glared at the woman, but, surprisingly, she didn't cower. “It's not unheard of for disturbed veterans to go on killing sprees if not properly diagnosed and treated.”_

_“It's not uncommon for normal, everyday civilians to start killing other people left and right for no reason, but you don't see me accusing you of murder. Just because a small number of people turn down an unfortunate path doesn't mean they all will. I have never met a more selfless man than Steve. He would do anything to help anybody. He actually helps little, old ladies cross the street! I've seen it! Men like that don't murder random people for no reason. There's something else to this story and I'm determined to find it._

_"That's why I am holding this press conference. Steve isn't safe in a police holding cell. Whoever is framing him will be able to get to him, bars or not. I will not stand idly by and watch him be slaughtered by the people who framed him. I demand he be turned over into the custody of my team. Only we can protect him.”_

_“What if Mr. Rogers is not innocent? What if he did it?” Another reporter asked. Tony turned the full force of his fiery glare on the hapless reporter._

_“I know him. My boyfriend is innocent and I will prove it if it's the last thing I do.”_

Steve stared blankly in stunned silence as the TV flickered off. Boyfriend? He needed to talk to Stark.

He didn't remember walking to the elevator, but suddenly he's standing in the car and watching as the doors slid closed with a quiet ding.

“JARVIS, take me to Stark,” Steve demanded, still too shocked to remember his manners.

“Sir is in his workshop at present and has left orders not to be disturbed except in case of emergency,” JARVIS replied. The elevator remained motionless.

“I don't care. I need to talk to him. Either take me there or I'll get my shield and climb down the outside of the building,” Steve threatened.

There was a long pause and then the elevator was descending. “Very well, Captain.”

The ride was at once too long and much too short. Steve found himself staring at a short, empty hallway ending in glass doors. A keypad was mounted to the wall next to them, but the doors slid open for Steve as he approached determinedly. Steve took a moment to thank JARVIS silently before clearing his throat loudly. Stark's head jerked up fast enough to make Steve's own neck muscles twinge in sympathy.

“How did you get in here? I'm pretty sure I had J put the workshop on lock down,” he said, looking around as if that would explain Steve's sudden appearance. Steve ignored the question.

“I saw your press conference,” he said instead. Stark frowned.

“What press conference? I haven't given a press conference.”

“I believe Captain Rogers is referring to the press conference you gave on his behalf approximately one month ago,” JARVIS broke in mock helpfully.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Stark said, sarcasm dripping like honey off his tongue. “You're such a great help.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Stark just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Steve. “What about it?”

“Since when am I your boyfriend?” Steve demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Stark his most authoritative stare.

“Oh, that?” Stark waved a dismissive hand, brushing it off like it was nothing. The memory of Stark's dark, flaming glare wielded in his defense didn't feel like nothing. “Fury needed an excuse to force the Council into acting on your behalf. He thought an enraged billionaire boyfriend threatening to bust you out would light a fire under their collective asses.”

Steve frowned. “But you didn't threaten to bust me out of jail.”

“That was gonna be the second press conference if the first one didn't work. Turned out we only needed the one,” Stark explained, turning back to the floating images in the air before him. Several of them looked like the TV screen, only opaque. The words “Winter Soldier” caught Steve's eye before Stark noticed and swiped them away. “Can I help you with anything else, Cap? You know, since you're here already.”

“Don't you think they'll find out the whole thing was a ruse?”

“Nah. I can be very convincing when I want to be. Besides, what if they did? I made it very clear that an entire team of superheroes was lying in wait within the Tower. Do you really think the boys in blue would send anyone in to retrieve you when they know the force that stopped an alien invasion of Manhattan is living here with you?” Stark asked. “I think they'll let you be at least until your court date.”

“That's in two days, by the way,” Steve reminded him.

Stark frowned again. “What is?”

“My court date. Don't you think it would be suspicious if my boyfriend didn't show up to support me after all the trouble he went to to get me out of jail?”

“You're right,” Stark said, immediately directing his attention to the ceiling. Steve was glad to learn he wasn't the only one who did that. “JARVIS, set up a reminder. Make sure to give me time to make myself presentable. Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“Of course, Sir. I've made a note.”

“Awesome!” Stark clapped his hands and turned back to Steve. “Looks like I'll be seeing you in a couple days, Cap. Now, if you don't mind, I've got some work to do.”

Not seeing any other choice, Steve nodded and left, his head still spinning trying to figure out something. If only he knew what.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Two days later Steve stood surrounded by his team on one side of the Tower's lobby in a suit and tie he had found laid out for him that morning while the uniformed officers charged to escort him to the courthouse stood rigidly at the other end of the room. He could tell they were uncomfortable, but Steve couldn't blame them. He thought Natasha's disconcerting stare alone would unnerve him if she wasn't on his side, not to mention the glares of two other people and the potential threat of an enraged Hulk making an appearance. It was surprising the officers were calm enough to stay in their presence at all.

“If we don't leave soon, we won't make it on time,” one of them called to Steve. He sounded apologetic despite the raised voice.

Steve hesitated, looking around at the others for help. He knew they'd have to leave soon if they didn't want to be late, which Steve absolutely did not want. Tardiness would only annoy the judge and that was the last thing Steve needed, but Stark was running late. JARVIS had said he was on his way. The delay had apparently been caused by Stark's own lack of internal clock and inability to keep track of time. That had been fifteen minutes ago.

“Go, Steve,” Natasha said from right beside him. Steve nearly jumped out of his skin at her sudden appearance at his elbow, but remembered just in time that they had an audience. “We'll wait for Stark and ream his ass for being late. Don't worry. He'll be there.”

Steve gave her a grateful smile, idly wondering if she knew about Stark's fake relationship plan or was just playing off his nervous fidgeting. “Thanks. See you there.”

He made his way toward the officers. They must have had some idea who he was because they merely grabbed him by either arm and walked him out the doors without bothering to handcuff him. Steve was grateful for that, it made him feel less like a criminal, and allowed them to put him in the back of their car without complaint.

No one spoke at all, unwilling to break the tense silence that hovered over them. The growing nervousness in the absence of a distraction was the only excuse Steve could make for not noticing the suspicious van following them. They were halfway through the ride when a white van slammed into the police car and sent it tumbling into oncoming traffic.

Steve's head slammed hard into the side of the car, setting his head to swimming. It took him much longer than it should have to realize the car had come to rest upside down. He must have hit his head hard to feel that disoriented and and almost sick to his stomach. The door next to him was wrenched open and someone reached in with a knife to cut through his seat belt. 

The next thing Steve knew, he was being dragged across the road and tossed into the back of a windowless van. People were shouting and suddenly the van lurched into motion. He started struggling against the hands that held him down, but someone stabbed him in the arm. Steve could feel whatever they gave him begin to take effect. He fought against it, but these people knew who they were dealing with. There was just enough time left to hope the officers weren't too badly hurt before Steve lost consciousness.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Steve woke he found himself chained to a chair in what looked to be some kind of underground laboratory straight out of the 1940s. He couldn't see much outside the circle of light surrounding him, but what he could see was not encouraging. Medical tools were laid out on a sterile metal cart. They looked well taken care of, but Steve had learned not to judge these things by appearances. Doctors didn't operate on people strapped to metal chairs bolted into the concrete floor. If that wasn't enough, a number of unidentifiable machines and the edge of what looked like a bank of ancient computers suggested this was anything but an operating room.

“Who are you?” Steve called into the darkness, firmly pushing the possibilities for all that equipment to the back of his mind. “What do you want with me?”

“You do look the part of a dapper gentleman, Captain,” a slimy voice said from the shadows. “But we all know you are a man of action and unused to such banality.”

Steve stared, squinting to try to see through the darkness and get a glimpse of the speaker. He ignored the comment about his clothes, only slightly surprised that he was still in the suit and tie.

“Who are you and what do you want?” He demanded again, putting more steel into his voice. His captor just laughed.

“The same thing we've always wanted, the serum.”

Steve would have dearly loved to groan at that. “Let me guess. Hydra?”

“The rumors said you were intelligent. I am glad to find them accurate.”

“You should know by now I don't know anything about the serum. The scientists who worked on it didn't consider my understanding how it worked necessary,” Steve said.

“There is no need for you to understand. Hydra has many scientists dying to study you. They are quite intelligent too. I have no doubt they will discover the secrets of the serum.”

“Did you kill that innocent man?” Steve asked, thinking to keep his captor talking in the hopes that somebody would find him if only he could stall long enough. “Was it all just a ruse to get me here?”

“Very intelligent. Yes, the murder and your arrest were all our doing. Clever, yes?”

“Not really,” Steve sneered, trying to look unimpressed and bored. It was difficult when he was chained uncomfortably to an even more uncomfortable chair. How long had he been there anyway? His shoulders were starting to ache with the strain of being pulled into such an awkward position. “You could have just walked up to me on the street and dragged me in here. Then there wouldn't be anyone looking for me.”

“We would have preferred that, yes, but you are a difficult man to track down. Do you ever stay for more than a couple days in one place?”

Admittedly, Steve hadn't been spending long in any one place, but America was a big country and he had wanted to see it all before the next world-ending crisis arose. “So you framed me for murder? That doesn't make sense.”

“Oh, but it does! You see, murder is the only crime we could be sure they would arrest you for. It's just heinous enough to make sure the police will hunt you down and arrest you no matter where you were. You only made it easier by coming back to the city at just the right time. After you were arrested it was only a matter of time before we infiltrated the station and spirited you away in the night.”

“It would seem that didn't really work out for you,” Steve quipped sarcastically.

“It would have if that bastard Stark hadn't ruined our carefully laid plans!” The voice shouted. Finally, Steve had found a sensitive point. “The police are nothing in terms of protection and a meager jail cell can't keep us at bay, but Stark is another matter entirely. Everyone thinks he stopped building weapons when he came back from his little stint in Afghanistan, but they would be wrong. Stark may not sell his weapons, but that tower of his is a fortress.”

Steve couldn't conceal the smirk he felt at his captor's outrage. And, of course, once the smirk escaped, laughter soon followed.

“It pays to have a genius boyfriend,” he said. The voice didn't find the comment as amusing as Steve did.

“We couldn't touch you while you were inside that damn tower surrounded by that ragtag band of soldiers you call superheroes, but there was still a chance. We could still get to you if we timed it right. Fortunately, such a high profile case generated a lot of news and your court date was common knowledge. And now, we will have the secrets we seek.”

A tall, rail thin man in a lab coat and surgeon's mask stepped into the light. He reached for the tools set out on the cart, brushing his fingers along them lovingly. Steve opened his mouth to say something scathing about his methods and hopefully stall a bit longer, but a familiar voice beat him to it.

“I think we've heard enough from the egotistical maniac,” Iron Man's filtered voice echoed around the room. “You've already given us all we need.”

“How did you get in here?!” The man shouted. Steve just now noticed he was blond. “It's impossible to break in here.”

“Obviously not if a bastard like me could manage it,” Iron Man snarked. Steve wondered just how long he had been listening in. That thought washed right out of his head with the flood of relief that came when the red and gold figure stepped into the circle of light. “Hey, babe. Sorry we took so long.”

Steve blushed at the casual use of such an intimate pet name. “No problem. I wasn't going anywhere.”

“None of you will go anywhere! You can't escape! No one escapes from Hydra!”

“Somebody shut that guy up,” Iron Man ordered, walking toward Steve, rounding the chair to presumably inspect his bonds.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Steve saw a small crackle of electricity spark into life on the side of his captor's neck and the man collapsed, unconscious. Natasha materialized where he had been standing and Steve recognized the work of her Widow's Bites. He tossed her a grateful smile, which she returned briefly.

“Alright, I think I can get these off without too much trouble,” Iron Man said. Except it wasn't Iron Man. The voice was pure Stark . No, it was pure Tony. Steve would never be able to think of him as 'Stark' after this rescue.

“You certainly got here quick,” Steve commented. “How did you know where I was?”

“Like I would leave you here all on your lonesome,” Tony replied absently, one gauntleted hand brushing gently along his arm. “Now hold still. This could get tricky.”

“How did you find me?” Steve tried again. He thought Tony was too distracted to pay much attention to the actual words leaving his mouth. At least he took the time to respond.

“Hmm...?” Tony was concentrating intently on the chains now. Steve could feel the heat of a laser as Tony cut through the dense metal. “Oh, I put a tracker among other things in your tie.”

“You put a tracker in my tie?” Steve muttered, unbelieving. “What if I hadn't worn it?”

“It was either wear that tie or don't wear one at all. Knowing the boy scout that you are, I gambled that you'd go with the tie I laid out because you wouldn't want to be seen as any less than proper, especially if that was the only one you had,” Tony explained. “I was right. Aha!”

Steve could feel the pressure on his shoulders vanish as the chains fell away. He brought his arms around and started rubbing the tingling limbs to get the blood flowing properly again. Tony had come around to kneel before him now, using his laser to cut through the chains at his ankles.

“You should be able to walk out of here,” Tony was saying. Steve could see that his faceplate was open and probably had been since he walked out of Steve's line of sight. That would explain the lack of robotic modulation in his voice earlier. “I don't think they had you tied up long enough to cause any permanent damage.”

“I'm fine,” Steve confirmed. “What else did you put in my tie?”

“What?”

Steve took Tony's proffered hand and allowed the other to pull him to his feet. He stretched with a low moan that made Tony's warm, brown eyes widen dramatically. He watched as those eyes traveled the length of his body, from raised hands all the way down to his feet. Tony appeared to swallow hard and force his gaze away.

“You said you put other things in my tie. What else?”

“Oh, nothing special,” Tony said with forced casualness. “Just, you know, a microphone with a wireless transmitter. We should get going. Hawkeye's waiting in the Quinjet with Bruce and I'm sure Thor is tired of guarding our escape route by now.”

Steve blinked stupidly at Tony's retreating back, kicking himself into gear and rushing to keep up. They were the only two still left in the room where he had been held. Natasha must have already restrained and lugged his captor outside while he wasn't looking.

“I'm not entirely sure what you just said,” Steve tried, catching up and walking at Tony's side. He had lowered the faceplate again.

“I got his entire confession on tape. We'll hand it over to SHIELD and have them clear your name,” Tony explained. Strangely, Steve missed his real voice. “Now hurry up, Cap. I don't wanna stay here any longer than necessary and I can't imagine you'd want to either. There'll be time for Q&A later.”

Steve forced his mouth shut on another question. He could feel his mind spinning again, trying to figure out that mysterious something. Except, this time, Steve thought he had an idea what that something was.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Each of the Avengers checked Steve over for injuries as soon as they were in the air. Clint even put the Quinjet on autopilot so he could come see for himself that Steve was alright. Steve mused that there was nothing like a life-threatening kidnapping to put a man on first name basis with someone. Bruce, the closest thing they had to an actual doctor, said he could see nothing wrong with him, but wanted to do a complete examination once they got back to the Tower and his lab. Steve agreed reluctantly. He appreciated their concern, but he felt fine.

They touched down on the rooftop landing pad and took the elevator together down to the common areas. From there everyone split up. Bruce prodded him back into the elevator and to his lab before he could get away or corner Tony. He still had some questions for the elusive genius and feared Tony would vanish into his workshop if given half a chance.

Finally, Bruce declared him completely healthy and released him. “Go on, get out of here, Steve. I can tell you have somewhere else you want to be.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Steve gave the scientist a grateful smile and left. As soon as he was clear, Steve asked JARVIS where Tony was.

“Sir is in his workshop, Captain,” the AI said.

“Take me to him please, JARVIS.”

“Of course, Captain.”

The elevator doors slid open and Steve stepped inside. The ride took only a couple seconds and he was stepping out into the hall leading to Tony's workshop. The doors opened at his approach again and Steve had never felt more gratitude for anyone before than he felt for JARVIS at that very moment. Tony's back was to him and the genius didn't appear to notice his approach.

“Tony?”

The man turned to look at him, a wary grin plastered on his face. “Bruce give you a clean bill of health already, Cap?”

“They didn't have time to do anything serious to me. You made sure of that.”

“Yeah, well, that's what I do. Rescue wayward superheroes and in my spare time I invent things.”

Steve smiled. “Sounds like hard work.”

Tony shrugged. “Somebody's gotta do it.”

“Why you?”

“Why not me?”

“Tony, why did you come for me?” Steve asked quietly, but he could tell Tony heard him.

“Which time?” He asked, obviously stalling.

“Both.”

Tony sighed. “I told you already, Steve.”

“Remind me.”

Determined brown eyes lifted to meet blue. “I wouldn't leave you to rot in a place like that. Either place.”

“Why?”

“You certainly love your questions,” Tony commented drily.

“Why do you care so much, Tony? Why were you so certain no one would question you being my boyfriend. Just... why?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

Steve crossed his arms stubbornly. “If you don't tell me now I'll find out eventually if I have to go to Fury himself to demand the answers.”

Tony raised his arms in a placating gesture. “Fine, fine. I'll tell you. Don't get your panties in a twist,” he joked, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. Steve just stared him down until he started talking again. It didn't take long. “My dad use to tell me stories about you from the cradle. I guess it was only natural for me to fall into a bit of hero worship and, eventually, more than a bit of a crush. I never grew out of it. Not really. That's how I knew they'd believe me. People tend to believe you when the lie is sprinkled with so much truth.”

He wasn't even looking at Steve by the time he'd finished. Instead, Tony stared determinedly at the floor. The fingers of one hand tapped restlessly against his leg as it bounced irregularly. Steve took in the hunched shoulders, down-turned face, and nervous ticks and finally saw what his friends had seen all along. Thor had been right. Tony was more vulnerable than he wanted people to know.

Steve knelt before him, gently covering the tapping fingers with his own and stilling his leg at the same time. With the other hand, Steve cupped Tony's chin and tilted his face up so Tony was forced to look at him.

“I thought so,” Steve whispered and kissed him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

EPILOGUE – SIX MONTHS LATER

Steve came up behind the distracted genius and wrapped his arms around him, leaning his chin on Tony's shoulder so he could see what he was doing.

“Almost ready for dinner?” Steve asked.

“Almost,” Tony muttered distractedly. “Just give me a couple more minutes.”

“Alright. I'll just be getting dressed. Come up when you're done,” Steve whispered in his ear, planting a kiss on the side of Tony's mouth.

He was just walking out the door when Tony registered what he had said. Steve smirked at the sound of tools and other bits of machinery clattering to the floor. Eccentric, distracted genius Tony may be, but he was Steve's eccentric, distracted genius and Steve wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
